What a barrel of monkeys it is to look back over Stockton's year 2012, when the city gained international notoriety by filing for Chapter 9 bankruptcy.

The bankruptcy filing - the largest in American history - eclipsed numerous good stories, as well as signs of a better 2013. A record 71 homicides just piled it on.

"I think the key point in 2012 is elected officials made horrendous decisions that were in the best interest of the community," City Manager Bob Deis said. "We hit bottom and we're starting the climb out."

Unfortunately, a city cannot hit bottom discreetly. Stockton cratered in the glare of global media.

The terrible intensity of the city's crash was not just can't-look-away lurid, it was profoundly consequential. It may permanently alter the American bond market or state pensions.

It contributed strongly to a national discussion of proper public employee compensation and public service culture. We got everybody's attention, that's for sure.

Let's take things in order.

Before Stockton could file for bankruptcy, it was the crash test dummy for a new law. AB506 required the city to confidentially negotiate with creditors.

AB506 did not work. Hey, Assemblymember Bob Wieckowski, your labor-friendly law cost the cash-strapped city $3 million more.

Worse, by denying the city protection from creditors, by denying the city a stay from court actions, it left the city vulnerable to repossession of three parking garages and - as the global media reported with relish from here to Honduras - our new city hall was repossessed.

On top of that, the city's Wall Street creditors refused to negotiate. The suits showed up, only to adamantly demand 100 cents on the dollar.

Some even proffered plans by which Stockton could further gut its work force and ax public services so the bond insurers could get all their money.

And yet some people call Wall Street greedy. Go figure.

One positive involved city employees. For years, the beetle-browed conspiracy theorists among them insisted the city was not really broke. It was hiding money. A shell game.

In the AB506 confab they faced facts.

Ultimately all nine bargaining units accepted radical cuts. The police department dropped its lawsuit. It agreed to sell off the house it bought next door to the city manager's.

Something like labor peace settled over Stockton.

"We intend to make the best of the situation," said police union leader Sgt. Kathryn Nance, "and continue improving the situation for the city of Stockton and help out any way we can."

Before the détente, however, came The Exodus. The resignation or retirement of 71 police officers, coupled with staff cuts, left a decimated force of 327 ill-equipped to battle a record-setting upsurge of murders.

Young gunmen seemed to feel impunity as they committed brazen daytime shootings and crime spiked across all categories. Even the aforementioned police house was broken into. That is what they call a bad sign.

Crime and bankruptcy took a political toll on Stockton's elected leaders. Voters ousted Mayor Ann Johnston.